


Talk (Dirty) To Me

by airebellah



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: (Tony is impressed), (consensually), (in Italian), Age Difference, Anal Sex, Attempted Seduction, Bottom!Peter, Crying, Dirty Talk, Language Kink, M/M, Peter is kind of the school slut, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Frustration, Slut Shaming, and he's very proud of it, top!tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 00:14:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15785019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airebellah/pseuds/airebellah
Summary: Tony begins to vent his sexual frustration toward Peter by muttering dirty things in Italian. And Peter, well, simply fails to inform Tony that he happens to understand every word.He was definitely not the type to shy away from sex. So when he was tugging on his suit one day in Tony’s lab after the man had made yet another tweak to its system, and he heard Tony mutter, “Vorrei che tu non indossassi niente sotto,” Peter was shocked to find his throat dry up in response. His tongue refused to cooperate, as it always seemed to when Tony was involved. Instead he pulled on the mask, and chatted with Karen about the updates as he silently chanted,What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the actual fuck.





	Talk (Dirty) To Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was partly inspired by a post on tumblr (describing Peter as highly sexually active and being screwed by, like, half the school). Translations are at the bottom.
> 
> EDIT: Thank you endlessly to user **Yulel** for correcting the Italian!!

There weren’t many times in Peter’s life that knowing Italian came in handy. While he no longer had to listen to Mr. Delmar talk about his “hot aunt,” he would have been much happier not understanding in the first place. Other than to put a smile on May’s face, he had never put his knowledge to use.

Then enter Tony Stark.

Peter hadn’t meant to hide his knowledge from the older man; in fact, having some common knowledge excited Peter to no end, giving him an opportunity to show off and (hopefully, possibly) impress the billionaire. But the first time he ever heard Tony speak Italian was on a mission, when the man let out a rather alarming string of imaginative curses through the comms. Natasha, the only other person to understand, chuckled and added in her own quip. Peter was stunned into silence by hearing his mentor speak so graphically. And not in a _holy shit, how can you say such things?_ kind of way. No, very much so in a _can you_ do _some of those things to me?_ kind of way.

Really, who _wouldn’t_ want to know what it was like to have Iron Man’s gauntlet shoved up their ass? (Apparently not the alien invaders they had been fighting but, well, it was their loss.)

Peter soon learned that Tony used Italian to vent his frustrations rather often, and realized the man may lose that form of expression if Peter made it known that he understood every word. So he kept silent.

 

One of the more fun, if somewhat bothersome, side-effects of the radioactive spider bite was an increased _everything_ \-- metabolism, sensory perception, reflexes. _Sex drive._ And while he wasn’t the most popular kid _socially_ (hello, marching band!), he was quite popular in _other_ areas at school.

Let’s just say, he had really earned the nickname “Penis Parker.”

He was definitely not the type to shy away from sex. So when he was tugging on his suit one day in Tony’s lab after the man had made yet _another_ tweak to its system, and he heard Tony mutter, “Vorrei che tu non indossassi niente sotto,” Peter was shocked to find his throat dry up in response. His tongue refused to cooperate, as it always seemed to when Tony was involved. Instead he pulled on the mask, and chatted with Karen about the updates as he silently chanted, _What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the_ actual _fuck._

He spent that night in his bed, jacking off, picking apart what Tony had meant, jacking off some more, contemplating whether he should make a move, jacking off some _more,_ and finally deciding to play it cool for now. Sure, he slept around with people at school -- but it was always meaningless. He never made a pass at close friends, like Ned or MJ, because it would complicate things. And he couldn’t afford to complicate things with Tony, especially if the man was just casually lusting after Peter’s body, and nothing more.

Maybe there had been a dam holding back Tony’s desire; whatever it was, from that point on, he became much more verbal about his interest -- just always in Italian. Peter would try out a new web-shooter style, and Tony would mutter about spraying Peter with his own white fluid.

One day, after a mission, Tony gave him a cherry lollipop and a pat on the head. “Good job, kid,” he said.

Peter rolled his eyes under his mask, rather chagrined at Tony’s infantilization. Then he pulled up the mask to pop the lolly into his mouth and tried to suppress a grin as the man struggled to tear his gaze away. Peter pulled the treat out, lapping at it with his tongue, before taking it in his mouth once more and sucking until his cheeks hollowed.

“Vuoi succhiare il mio cazzo in quel modo?” Tony muttered, dropping his faceplate as he looked away.

Peter wished he could have really seen his mentor’s reaction, wondered if Tony needed to readjust himself in his pants as the teen slurped at the sticky candy. Because his answer to that question was a resounding _hell yeah._

 

After that, it became kind of a game to Peter, seeing what evoked reactions from the older man. He firmly decided not to say anything, and instead drive Tony mad until he caved and made a move. That move preferably being bending Peter over and fucking him six ways to Sunday.

The lab was suddenly stocked with lollipops, Tony muttering about how Peter “seemed to enjoy them so much,” as if it was really for the teen’s benefit. And it certainly was; he loved seeing Tony’s eyes darken as his lips closed around the treat.

Once Peter needed help with an equation, and Tony pressed against his back to peer over his shoulder. One of his hands gripped Peter’s bicep, squeezing lightly, as his other pulled the pencil out of the teen’s hand to fix his mistake. As he pulled away, he stroked Peter’s cheek and whispered, “Che bel ragazzo.”

The rough drag of calluses down his skin, coupled with Tony’s warm breath beating against his ear and that sweet praise, was a trigger for Peter’s overactive sex drive. He had to excuse himself, clutching his notebook over his lap as he fled to the bathroom and masturbated.

Peter’s breaking point had almost come when he was bent over a counter. He wasn’t even arching his back or trying to invoke an alluring posture, focused as he was on carefully counting the exact milimetres on a beaker of diluted hydrochloric acid. Tony strolled up, phone in one hand, resting his hip against the counter. A silent greeting of patting Peter’s shoulder blade morphed into his hand resting on the teen’s lower back.

He applied the slightest pressure, forcing Peter’s back to arch just a little. He said, casually, as if speaking to someone on the phone about a mundane topic, “Voglio scoparti su questa scrivania finché non urlerai il mio nome.”

Peter’s answering choke was covered up by Jarvis announcing Pepper had just arrived upstairs to discuss an upcoming business deal. Nothing doused an erection like your would-be lover’s ex-girlfriend.

 

Peter’s enjoyment was quickly becoming overshadowed by his near-consuming need to finally be dicked down by Tony Stark.

He had fantasized it many times -- he would find some excuse to be on his knees in front of the man, or just lean over another desk and conspicuously stick his ass in the air. Tony would whisper something obscene about filling Peter’s hole with his cock; Peter would deadpan reply, “So why don’t you?” and Tony would make good on his promise.

It was _not_ supposed to happen when Peter was invited to his first Stark Industries board of directors meeting. He had previously asked Tony for the opportunity to do some of the things an actual intern might do. (He was well aware that an actual teenaged intern would likely not be invited to sit in on such a meeting, but Tony was nothing if not extra).

It turned out one of the shareholders had a penchant for rambling, and had just returned from a _fascinating_ trip to Bora Bora with his much younger wife. As he droned on about a topless beach that was disappointingly empty, Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered under his breath, “Tutte le donne sexy se ne sarebbero andate nel momento in cui ti avrebbero visto.”

Peter laughed.

Tony’s head snapped around so fast, the teen was almost worried the man pulled a muscle.

Next thing he knew, Tony was grabbing his arm and pulling him to his feet. “M-Mr. Stark!” he stammered as he was dragged out of the boardroom and into the room next door, turning the lock and dropping the blinds before spinning around.

“When the fuck did you learn to speak Italian, Parker?”

“Uh, well, the funny thing is, sir… I kind of always knew it?” Peter started to explain.

He prayed Tony would kiss him, but steeled himself for some serious yelling. He did _not_ expect Tony to stumble away from him, one hand clutching his chest.

“Fuck, kid, this is so fucked up. I said - _shit,_ you were probably so uncomfortable. I get it if you want someone else, we’re not really on speaking terms but I’m sure Rogers would take you under his wing-”

“What?” Peter gasped. “No, Mr. Stark, please, I’m sorry, don’t send me away!”

“Y-You’re sorry? _You’re sorry?”_ Tony held up a hand as Peter tried to step closer. “Pete, I’m a fucking creep. You have nothing to be sorry about, Jesus!”

“You don’t understand!” Peter shouted before the man could give him a heart attack. “I didn’t say anything because I want you so bad, Mr. Stark, I loved hearing you say all those things, and it was so wrong, but I didn’t want to screw things up between us, and all I’ve ever wanted was for you to fuck me.”

“Seriously?” Tony asked, hand slowly dropping to his side. “Kid, don’t say anything you don’t mean.”

Peter groaned, fisting his hair in frustration. “Mr. Stark! I’m not some innocent child, and I’m tired of sucking on lollipops picturing your cock in my mouth, all the while hoping you’ll finally make a move!”

Tony cleared his throat as he fingered the button of his jacket. “You want this?” he asked.

Peter nodded his head vigorously. “Fottimi finché non urlo il tuo nome.”

Apparently a touch of Italian was all he needed; Tony charged forward, grasping Peter’s biceps and dragging him against the wall joining the meeting they had just left. “I’m going to make sure they hear you,” he whispered in the teen’s ear as he began unbuttoning Peter’s thrift store dress pants.

“Oh, my God. Yes,” Peter moaned, capturing Tony’s lips in a wet kiss. He managed to pull open Tony’s belt, but before he could reach for the man’s fly, Tony flipped him around and shoved his front into the wall. Tugging his boxers down, Peter shimmied his hips until his pants and underwear pooled at his ankles, then shamelessly spread his legs apart.

“Should’ve taken you for a slut,” Tony growled as he cupped the boy’s ass. “How do you like it, Pete?”

“Hard,” the boy replied. Letting the microhairs extend from his hands, he gripped the wall in preparation. He turned his head to find Tony’s mouth once more, and instead received two fingers pushing into his mouth. Keening, he stared into the man’s eyes as best he could as he obediently sucked and laved at the fingers. A sharp slap to his ass had him gasping, and Tony pulled out of his mouth only to push into the boy’s hole.

Peter’s hips canted immediately, pressing back until he could feel the base of Tony’s finger. “More, please, more.”

“Fuck, you’re needy,” Tony grunted as another finger joined. “This enough for you, baby?”

Peter shook his head, using his hold on the wall to desperately lift himself up and down onto Tony’s hand. “I’m good, Mr. Stark, just fuck me.”

Sighed, Tony leaned forward to nuzzle at Peter’s cheek. “I wish I could, baby, but I didn’t bring anything.”

“Wallet!” Peter gasped as Tony crooked his fingers and shoved upward with enough force to slam Peter against the wall. “My wallet, check my wallet. Right pocket.”

Tony crouched down, twisting around to search through Peter’s right pocket with his left hand, as his other was currently prodding Peter’s prostate gland. “Pete, there are _sixteen_ condoms in here. I mean, no shame - that’s fucking impressive.”

“You said it, Mr. Stark,” he said. “I’m a slut. I need it so bad.”

Peter whimpered as Tony’s fingers suddenly stilled. The man stood and pressed against his back, silky clothes gliding over Peter’s burning skin. “How many people have fucked you before me, Pete?” he whispered in the boy’s ear.

The boy shook his head. “I don’t know, sir, I didn’t really keep track. Please, _please,_ just-”

“I am going to ruin you Peter,” Tony promised. His tongue traced the shell of Peter’s ear, sending a shiver down the boy’s spine. “You think you’ve been fucked before? I’m not going to stop until you’re crying my name.”

Peter let out a strangled noise as Tony pulled out, and the man tutted disapprovingly as he ripped open the condom and rolled it on. Little droplets of moisture hit his back as Tony spit onto his cock before pressing it between Peter’s cheeks.

“Where do you let all the boys fuck you at school, Pete?” he asked as he pushed in. Peter moaned, immediately pressing back, but was stilled by a hand on his hip. “Answer me, boy.”

“Anywhere,” Peter answered. “I-In the bathroom, locker room, behind a tree.”

“What about the teachers, baby?” Tony snorted as Peter shook his head in response. “You telling me none of those teachers want to fuck this tight, little, jailbait ass?” He thrust forward,  stomach hitting Peter’s back as he pushed all the way in.

“Mm, Mr. Stark, I, uh, dunno,” he replied, struggling to form a reply.

“You just let anyone use you, hmm?” Tony asked, planting his feet over Peter’s, holding the boy down as he set a quick pace with his hips.

“Yes!” Peter cried. “I need it, all the time, Mr. Stark.”

Tony’s hand gripped his hair, lightly tipping his head back so the man could suck on his neck. “I-I thought you were gonna fuck me,” Peter teased, grinning as Tony’s lips released his reddening skin with a wet _pop._

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, kid,” he warned.

Peter scoffed. “Mr. Stark, one day I got fucked by three of the basketball team’s best players during lunch, and it still wasn’t enough.”

Tony growled, one hand settling on the boy’s clavicle, keeping him pressed down as he started to pound Peter into the wall. “Mr. Stark,” he gasped, letting one hand fall from the wall to reach behind and grab Tony’s thigh. “Please, harder, _harder.”_

The man let go of his collarbone to fist his hair, properly this time -- nails digging into his scalp, pulling his curls until Peter’s eyes prickled, then shoving his face into the wall as Tony well and truly fucked him, hard enough for Peter’s body to slam into the wall with each thrust, until the boy was crying out.

“This how you want it, Pete?” he seethed, ripping Peter’s shirt off his shoulder to bite and suck at the boy’s skin.

“Yes, yes, bite me- bite me harder.”

Tony groaned, digging his teeth into the boy’s muscles before softening his jaw, tongue gliding along Peter’s skin then sucking a bruising hicky over his carotid.

“You’re such a filthy, eager whore,” Tony taunted. “Probably wish I was fucking you in the middle of the meeting for everyone to see.”

Peter whimpered, nodding eagerly against the painted drywall. Tony shifted, his foot no longer on top of Peter’s and the boy lifted his leg, knee pulling toward his elbow. The ball of his foot attached to the wall and Tony groaned in approval, grabbing Peter’s inner thigh as his angle deepened with the new position.

“Let everyone know who’s fucking you so good, baby,” he scolded, the fingers in Peter’s hair twisting.

“Mr. Stark, ah! Mr. Stark,” Peter cried as the man thrusted into him hard enough to shake the wall.

“They probably think you spread your legs to get this position.” Tony’s voice lowered as he added, “They don’t know you did it for free.”

The pressure was rapidly building in Peter’s groin, and every hit to his sensitive prostate was becoming overwhelming. “Please, sir,” he begged. “I want your come inside me.”

The hand squeezing Peter’s thigh released as the man instead wrapped his fingers around Peter’s leaking cock. “You ready to come, baby?”

“Yes!” Peter shouted. “Yes, yes, yeah - ah, ah.” His voice faltered as Tony began to pump him, just as hard and rough as the man’s thrusts. He let go of Peter’s hair, and the boy mourned the painfully-good touch until Tony’s fingers were pushing into his mouth, jamming back until Peter was choking.

Peter had had a few good orgasms. Most of them were mediocre because, well, his partners were all fumbling teenagers who couldn’t keep up with his libido. Needless to say, he was wholly unprepared for Tony Stark, who had been fucking longer than Peter had been _alive._ His scream as he came was barely muffled by the man’s hand. Tony’s fingers pulled out of his mouth, instead gripping Peter’s shoulder as he continued to pound into the boy, whose forehead banged against the wall with each thrust. He looked down, but the sight of beige paint splattered with his come soon blurred as his eyes prickled with tears.

“Tony, Tony, please,” he begged, voice cracking. He was unprepared for the sensitivity of being fucked after orgasming; all his previous partners had come before him. “It-it’s too much.”

“Baby boy,” Tony groaned, arms wrapping around Peter’s torso as he sank into the boy. His body shook as he came, leaving him sagging as he panted into Peter’s hair. “Fuck, I told you I’d make you cry.”

Peter chuckled hoarsely, wiping his cheeks against his forearm. Tony pulled out, throwing the condom away before redressing. Peter let the microhairs in his foot retract so he could lower his leg, but he was too scared to release his hands just yet; perhaps noticing, Tony silently pulled Peter’s boxers and pants to his waist before covering Peter’s hands in his own.

“I’ve got you, Pete,” he promised. “You can let go.”

It took him a second, but Peter pulled back the hairs and Tony twisted him around, wrapping his arms around Peter’s back and tugging the boy into a hug. “Too much?” he asked.

“No! I mean, I just got a little sensitive at the end,” he explained. “But it was really, _really_ good, sir.”

“Better than the basketball team?” Tony goaded.

Peter grinned, leaning up for a kiss. “Incomparable,” he murmured. “In fact…” he trailed off, nudging his nose against Tony’s. “I don’t think I can go back to high school boys.”

“No?” Tony asked, brow arching compellingly. “Am I going to have to fuck you every day, now?”

Peter groaned, fisting the man’s shirt. “Can you, please?” He batted his eyelashes for good measure.

Tony cupped his jaw, thumb gently brushing against his cheek. “I think I can arrange something. Just for you, kid.”

Smirking, Peter tilted his head until he could capture Tony’s thumb in his mouth. The man moaned immediately, the pad of his thumb pressing down onto Peter’s teeth. “You’re fucking insatiable, aren’t you?”

“Try to keep up, old man.”

**Author's Note:**

> Vorrei che tu non indossassi niente sotto -- I wish you didn’t wear anything underneath  
> Vuoi succhiare il mio cazzo in quel modo? -- do you want to suck my cock like that?  
> Che bel ragazzo -- What a beautiful boy  
> Voglio scoparti su questa scrivania finché non urlerai il mio nome -- I want to fuck you over this desk until you cry out my name  
> Tutte le donne sexy se ne sarebbero andate nel momento in cui ti avrebbero visto -- All the hot women would have left the moment they saw you.  
> Fottimi finché non urlo il tuo nome -- Fuck me until I scream your name
> 
> [Visit me on tumblr for more Starker, to submit requests, rant together about these losers etc.](http://airebellah.tumblr.com)


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